Free Venom by Fiona Paul Page B

close to him as she dared, stepping as quietly as she could. She couldn’t make out the picture taking shape on his parchment. Falco’s hand moved swiftly, laying down a series of sharp strokes on the paper. Fascinated, Cass took another step closer. Her left foot snapped a dry twig.
    Falco’s head whirled around so quickly that Cass stepped back, startled, as the boy sprang to his feet. His blue eyes looked almost black in the moonlight.
Hot. Angry. Violent.
The words flared up in Cass’s mind.
    “Oh, it’s you.” Immediately his eyes returned to normal. He smiled his lopsided grin. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re following me.” The way he said it suggested it wouldn’t necessarily be a bad thing.
    Cass pulled the crumpled note out of her pocket. Wordlessly, she handed it to Falco.
    She watched him read it over several times, his mouth settling into a fine white line.
    “Where did you get this?” he asked, rubbing at a spot beneath his right eye.
    “A messenger delivered it to me in the canals.”
    “He followed you into the city?” Falco studied the note again and then, without warning, he leaned down and thrust it into his lantern’s flame.
    “What are you doing?” Cass tried to pull the smolderingparchment from the flame, but her thumb landed on a hot ember and she jerked away. The paper fell to the ground, where it continued to burn until it was nothing but ashes. “That might have been a clue!”
    “For whom? We already determined there’s nobody to tell,” Falco said, his voice low and harsh.
    “But it’s obvious he’s coming for me.” Cass felt her lip trembling and bit back the tears. She refused to cry in front of this boy. “And I still don’t know what happened to Liviana’s body. Her family would be devastated to know it’s disappeared.”
    “Forget the body,” Falco said. “She’s dead. You’re alive. If you want to stay that way, I suggest pretending none of this ever happened. Whatever the murderer’s motives, he’ll have no need to kill you unless you give him cause.” Falco’s voice was light, but it still sounded like a threat.
    Cass shivered as she looked around at the gravestones and the monuments. So many dark shadows a murderer could fit inside. “I will not just
forget
the body of a friend—a contessa, I might point out—that vanished into the night. And it’s easy for you to say he won’t hurt us. No one’s left
you
any deranged love notes.” She turned to head back to the villa.
    Falco grabbed her shoulder. “Hold on,” he said.
    His strength surprised Cass. She tucked her right hand inside her cloak pocket, and her fingers closed around the handle of the small knife. “Let me go,” she said, “or I’ll scream.”
    Falco released her. “Please, not that again. My head still hurts from last time.” He flashed a half smile. “Look, I understand why you’re scared. And I understand why you think you’ll feel better if you go to the guard, but they won’t help you.”
    “So your plan is just for me to stay here with my aunt and wait tobe murdered? You do realize you’ll probably be next on the list, don’t you?”
    “Yes, yes,” Falco said wryly. “I’m not thrilled about the idea of being stalked by a killer, either.”
    “We could go to Piazza San Marco,” Cass said slowly, “and put a letter in the
bocca di lione
.” The lion sculpture stood just outside the Palazzo Ducale, its mouth open wide to accept anonymous tips and accusations.
    “We could.” Falco nodded. “But I’ve always thought that box was watched, if not by rettori, then by prying eyes.” Falco tucked the drawing he’d been working on into the pocket of his cloak and leaned back against a tall grave marker topped with a cross. His dark brown hair curled around his face, making him look like an angel in a painting. Cass stood directly in front of him, acutely aware of the fact that they were almost eye to eye. And lip to lip, she realized, tilting her body